


Command Me to be Well

by hesterbyrde



Series: What Carries Weight [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, D/s, Dom Phil Coulson, Drinking, Established Relationship, F/M, Kink Negotiation, Orgasm Control, Porn, Porn With Feels, Relationship Discussions, Sex, Shower Sex, Smut, Spoilers, Sub Melinda May, Top Phil Coulson, bottom melinda May
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 17:58:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3456521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesterbyrde/pseuds/hesterbyrde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falls after 2x07 "Writing on the Wall," and contains major spoilers for Season 2.</p>
<p>With all official business pertaining to the pursuit of Sebastian Derik out of the way, Phil and Melinda decide it's time that they discussed the true nature of their working (and not working) relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Command Me to be Well

**Author's Note:**

> This is part 4 of my series "What Carries Weight," and carries on an established May/Coulson relationship. That being said, it's not 100% necessary to have read the previous stories.
> 
> The title is taken from the song "Take Me To Church" by Hozier.
> 
> Many thanks to KaminaDuck, LawlessDragon, and all my other friends who beta-read and throw plot bunnies at me.
> 
> And thanks to you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated.

The Q&A that followed after Coulson revealed the blueprint of the alien city had been exhausting. So many questions, and entirely too many had “We don't know.” as at least part of the answer, if not the entirety of it. He was pretty sure some of the words FitzSimmons used in their inquiries were not actually English. But in spite of the frankly harrowing stack of unanswerable questions, Phil felt a great sense of peace. His mind was his own again, at long last.

The golden light of the fading day streamed in the office windows and found him elbow deep in paperwork, which was his favorite post-mission activity. Well... at least his favorite official post-mission activity. He had always found it a consolidating and calming way to end an active day in the field. All his experiences, questions, and acquisitions, no matter how alarming or confusing, had a place in neat, blank forms and field reports. He could organize and catalog them, and then worry about them tomorrow. And now, it was especially wonderful to be able to do this unhampered by the compulsion to mutilate paperclips or take a pocket knife to the nearest flat surface.

There was a soft knock at the door. “Come in.” He responded, not looking up from his desk.

Melinda May sauntered in wearing a cat-like grin, latching the door behind her. “The rest of the team is celebrating.” she said as she crossed to his desk.

“As they should.” He responded with a smile, though he barely glanced up.

“And you're doing paperwork.”

“It's got to get done.”

“Of course. Because your boss is going to be so upset if you don't follow procedure.” Melinda snorted. “If you ever wondered why you were the nerd of Operations at the Academy, here is why.”

Phil made a face at her. “And yet I always received higher marks than you in our procedural classes.”

“I didn't need to do well in procedural classes. That's what you were for. We knew we'd get partnered together. You organized the ops. I made sure your plan stayed unshakeable. That was the way it worked.”

Phil looked up at her fondly. “It's the way it still works, isn't it?”

She smiled warmly and shrugged. “I like to think so. It's also my job, now that you're Director to make sure you don't take your job too seriously, and that you learn when to fucking celebrate. So let's work on that, shall we?” She produced two small glasses and a bottle of brandy from behind her back.

Phil sat back and smiled up at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling. What did he ever do to deserve someone like Melinda? He came out from behind his desk as she busied herself pouring them each a couple fingers of brandy. He took his glass when she proffered it and they clinked them together.

“What are we toasting to?” Phil asked.

“To you?”

“To us.” he corrected.

They both took a long, fragrant drink.

“Mmm. This is good. Where'd you get it?” Phil asked, swirling the liquid around the faceted glass.

“The truth? It was Ward's. He left it behind on the Bus. I found it when I was cleaning out his bunk. It hadn't even been opened, and it's too nice to throw away.”

“Agreed.”

A long amenable silence stretched between them. Phil stared out the window to see the last wisps of rosy sunlight fade from the clouds. He could feel Melinda watching him with soft eyes and he was glad for her presence.

“So what now?” he asked, still watching the twilight seep into the sky.

Melinda shrugged and took another sip of her brandy. “Well, when I left, everyone was having a beer and shooting off theories. Simmons is convinced that the city isn't on earth. Trip agrees with her, though I'm pretty sure she could say that the sky is green because we live in the belly of a giant frog and he would agree with her.”

Phil snorted. “That's an accurate assessment.”

“Skye, being Skye, has already hopped to making some sort of tracking algorithm,” she went on. “Or something. She started speaking advanced computer and I stopped listening. Fitz seemed to be having a few articulate ideas about it, though, so he was helping her.”

“Good. I'm glad they're on this so enthusiastically. But that's not really what I meant.” Phil said. “I meant “what now” about you and me.”

Melinda's warm expression hardened. It was that look she got when a conversation took a turn that she wasn't happy about. “What about us?” she said tightly.

“Now that I'm better, or at least not carving like Michelangelo on crystal meth, what about us?” Melinda was silent so he perched on the edge of his desk and pressed on. “We both made each other some promises when things looked bleak. A lot of those promises were not in the slightest bit professional, but I don't feel I'm out of line saying that they were made with the utmost sincerity. But now that crisis is more or less behind us. So I say again, what now?”

Melinda swallowed as she tried and failed to keep her expression neutral. “I suppose things will just go back to normal.” she said.

“Yeah, the face you made while you said that tells me that's not at all what you want. And frankly neither do I, so if that's what's troubling you about having this conversation, you can breathe easy.”

She gave a tiny nod, but her posture didn't relax in the slightest.

“Face it, Melinda. At this point if we called it quits, you and I would eat each other in a month tops. And not in the fun way. Plus, have we ever had a normal? Have we ever had... this-” he gestured between them. “Without all this secret formula, carving madman, craziness?”

She licked her lips and thought for a moment before she spoke. “Yes. In a way yes. You and I have always had... well, you and I. We came through the Academy together. Things have gone south on missions and we've had each other's backs in the way that came naturally to us. Were we always aware of it? No. I didn't even recognize it until I spent a year and a half filing paperwork in a sub-basement of the Hub.”

“Why didn't you contact me?”

“Because it was a lot to process, and I wasn't sure how to say what I was feeling. It's like you keep saying. We aren't conventional. And by the time I thought I might have found words, you were dead. Sort of. Then, Fury came with news about your resurrection... and the observational detail. I almost didn't take it, but Fury being Fury... he knew who he was asking.” She took a long, sullen drink.

“You think he manipulated you?”

“It's Fury. I'm almost certain he did. Our record working together would speak for itself. But what's done is done, and my reason for accepting still stands. I wanted to keep you safe. And thankfully, I was able to.”

“Thanks for that.” Phil said clinking their glasses together. “Still leaves the question. What are we going to do?”

“Nixing our... “ she fumbled for an appropriate word.

“Relationship.” Phil supplied for her. “Let's just call it what it is.”

She nodded. “Nixing our relationship isn't on the table. Right?” 

Phil could tell she was asking more for assurance than clarification. He shook his head. “I don't want it on the table unless you think it should be. I don't want to be without the person I've been the closest to in this world.”

“No, I don't want that to be negotiable.” Melinda agreed. Then she frowned as a thought dawned on her. “Closest to in the world? What about Audrey?”

Phil's lips thinned and shook his head. “Oh no. I cared for her a great deal. Some definition of love, probably. I thought for a long time she was the person I wanted to come home to at the end of the day. But I think now I realize that I can't separate myself from the work that I do, and moreover I don't think I want to. And what kind of relationship is that? What kind of life is that? I would have to constantly exorcise her from my daily life. How would that be fair to either of us? 

“But you? No, you've been with me through the thick of all of it. Through things I could never in a thousand years bring home to Audrey and live with myself. And you chose this life too, so I don't feel like I might potentially be dragging you through something you're unprepared for.”

“So if we're not calling it quits, what are we?” Melinda asked after a moment.

“Nothing conventional, I think.” Phil shrugged. “But that doesn't mean nothing. I think I know some of what I want. And I imagine if given the chance, we'll find the sum total of what we want and need together.”

Melinda nodded, clearly picking over his words in her head like a bird with bits of twig.

Phil set down his glass and took her shoulders in his hands, holding and steadying her but not quite embracing her. She looked up at him, seeming a little lost. “I'm not asking for a capital “R” relationship. I'm not asking to be your boyfriend, or for us to start shopping for condos together, or even to bunk up all the time. Conventional doesn't work for us.”

Melinda nodded, sincerely agreeing with his statement, but the pinch of her brow suggested she was still waiting to see where he was going with this.

“Here's what I am asking for: I'm asking for what's always been there and I want to be able to call it what it is. I'm asking for my partner. My honest, no nonsense, loving, and loyal partner. Sometimes that means just talking over details for work. Sometimes that means doing dangerous ops together because I don't trust anyone else. And sometimes it means that, if you're feeling up to it, I want to tie you to my bed and fuck you.” He saw her breath hitch when he said that last bit. It made something catch in him too, though it was significantly lower than his diaphragm. “That's... that's what I want.” he finished.

Melinda was quiet for a moment, staring up at Phil with an unreadable expression. At length, she spoke. “I want my partner that I can stand behind. I want to have drinks,” she waved her brandy before taking a long sip. “And talk about serious stuff. Or the latest episode of Dr. Who.”

“That doesn't count as serious?”

Melinda playfully punched him in the shoulder before her expression turned soft and earnest. “And sometimes...when you're feeling up for it, I want to be reminded that my surrender to you is welcome.”

“Oh, it always is.” Phil assured her. He drew her in for a long kiss. Her mouth was so soft under his, and her body molded itself against him. He pulled back after a moment, dizzy from the head-rush. “Would you like that tonight? Because I'm so game.”

She smiled then and giggled. Phil savored the rare sound. “I was hoping you would ask. I would like that.” she said. “But don't you have paperwork to finish?” She winked at him, a playful smile blossoming on her lips.

Phil shot her a withering look, made much less threatening by the smile spread across his features, and downed the last of his brandy. He grabbed her by the hand and started walking towards the door. Melinda barely had time to finish her own drink and get the empty glass on the table before she was dragged laughing down the hall to Phil's room.

“I want a shower.” He said as soon as his bedroom door was closed behind them. “I'm still covered in grime from that workshop.” He started pulling at his tie, but Melinda moved up and took over.

“Let me.” she murmured, with that soft and very centered look in her eye. Phil knew that look, and God he loved it. She helped him start shedding his suit. After each layer of clothing, she took a moment to trace her fingers along his muscles, feeling him through the fabric. Every movement was at once reverent and indulgent. When she peeled away the white button down, both their eyes fell on the ragged scar that twisted down his breastbone.

Phil's smile faded as he traced a finger down it as if he were seeing it for the first time. Melinda's hand followed in its wake.

“Just a scar now.” he whispered, sounding a little forlorn, which surprised him.

“It was always just a scar.” Melinda said softly.

He shook his head a little. “I hated it. I hated the sight of it for so long. It was a physical reminder that something inside me was broken and I was so dead certain that it couldn't be fixed.”

Melinda leaned forward and kissed his scar with a gentleness that made Phil's chest ache. “It's a reminder to me, too.”

“It is? Of what?”

“How important you are.” she answered, sliding her hands around to caress the equally vicious scar on Phil's back. “The first time I saw it was when we slept together in Seattle. I've seen scars. I've got my fair share, some of them from life threatening wounds. But your chest was split in half. And it was decided that we couldn't do without you. And you were placed in my charge. It is a reminder to me of how important you are.” She paused and kissed the scar on his chest again before pressing her forehead to it. “And it makes me want to hit my knees just thinking about it.”

“Do you think they did the right thing?” Phil asked, caressing her hair.

Melinda's mouth pressed into a thin line and she shook her head. “Technically, no. You did not give your consent, and in fact withdrew it repeatedly, so that should have been the end of it. But if you allow me to take hindsight into consideration... and so considering that you're standing here before me healthy and, I daresay, happy. And having saved my life and the lives of so many others... I can at least say that I'm grateful.”

He leaned down and kissed her again, drinking in the words she had just spoken. “I think I'm grateful, too.” he said after they broke their kiss. “I couldn't say that before, but I think I can now.”

“Good.” Melinda smiled up at him, allowing some of her weight to rest on his arms as he held her.

“Come on.” Phil said, stealing another quick kiss before taking her hand. “Shower and then bed.”

He lead Melinda into his spacious bathroom. While the décor wasn't exactly up to date, it was well appointed none the less. A deep tub occupied one corner, and a walk-in shower took up a whole wall on the right hand side of the room.

“Have I mentioned that I'm jealous of your bathroom?” Melinda said dryly as she pulled off her jacket.

“Fury's doing, I'm sure.” Coulson mused, continuing to divest himself. “Say what you want about him. He's not one to forgo luxury if he can help it.”

Melinda shed her clothes as well, piling them neatly by the door. She noticed Phil watching her undress and she couldn't keep a shy smile off her face. Nor could she keep a blush off her cheeks when Phil stripped off his boxers. He was half hard already, and Melinda had to bite her lip to keep from falling to her knees and wrapping her lips around his cock right there. Just thinking about the weight of him in her mouth and the taste of him on her tongue made her a little dizzy.

A mischievous smile cut across Phil's face as he guessed her thoughts. “Oh, don't worry. You'll get more than your chance at that.” he told her, his voice holding a deliciously roughened edge.

He tugged her into the shower and started the water. When the temperature was adjusted to their liking, they stood holding each other under the steamy spray. Melinda's fingers traced along Phil's skin, chasing after rivulets of water that sluiced down his body. Phil's mouth was eagerly drinking beads of water off of Melinda's breasts making her shiver in his arms. After a long while of adoring caresses and kisses, they both smiled up at each other and started giggling like school children. They were being so ridiculous, but neither one of them could help it. A great coiled knot that had been twisted between them was slowly coming undone. They were realizing with some giddiness that they might have time to explore this. Explore each other.

Phil leaned her back under the water, and she followed him pliantly. Her eyes closed and her lips parted as water soaked her hair. She was a luscious sight like this to him. Trusting and sensuous. Floating in the feeling of the hot water and his heavy hands. Phil tightened his grip on her lower back, to get her attention. It made her gasp a little with surprise as she focused her eyes on his face, but her expression was instantly calm and ready for instruction. It sent a hot bolt of arousal straight through him.

“Wash your hair and yourself.” he told her, his voice gentle but holding that delicious firmness that brooked no argument. “I'm going to sit over here and watch. When you're done, I want you to kneel down and suck my cock until I decide you are done.”

Melinda swallowed and wiped the water from her eyes. The weight of his tone and the climbing temperature of the humid air made her swoon. She managed a rough “Yes, sir.” as he sat back into the shower seat behind him, just out of her reach. Melinda did a brief amount of searching before finding a bottle of 2-in-1 shampoo. She poured a generous portion into her hand and began working it into the roots of her thick, dark hair.

She took a deep breath and focused her mind on the warmth and feel of the water on her skin, lest she rush through the first half of Phil's command. She let herself fall into the texture of the suds she worked into her hair and skin. She was swept up by it, letting her head loll back and her mouth fall open as she rinsed the soap away. 

After a moment, She sneaked a look at Phil as he watched her and that glimpse nearly undid her. He shamelessly had his cock in his hand and was working it in languorous strokes. The wanton and hungry look in his eyes as he gazed up at her made Melinda weak. His pupils were blown wide and black, and every line of his face promised to own her when she inevitably knelt in front of him.

Melinda finished rinsing herself off, and it was all she could do to keep her composure as she fell to her knees on the smooth tile floor at Phil's feet. She slid his cock, already slick with pre-come, over her tongue and down her throat nearly making herself gag in her exuberance. She inhaled as she sucked him down, reveling in the smell of soap and of sex. She could feel his hands knitting into her sodden hair, setting the pace at which she was to pleasure him.

She felt the world go still in that moment. She loved this feeling. The world would narrow to a single point and all the sensations would run together. The water pounding dully over her back, Phil's hands in her hair, his moans of ecstasy, and the weight of his cock throbbing between her lips as she worked him with all the skill she knew.

This was home. The harbor. This was her place. Her still, reassured, and constant place in the world. Phil would take care of her, because she would take care of him. And right at that moment, the world spun on that axis alone.

Melinda didn't know how long she stayed there, sucking and lapping and worshiping Phil's cock. At some point she felt herself being pulled up by her hair, and she obediently let his cock fall from her lips with a delicious, wet pop.

“I want to come inside you. Get up here.” Phil rasped, his normally even, calm voice rough with want.

Melinda rose unsteadily to her feet and let herself be guided into Phil's lap. While she was plenty wet, she'd had no real foreplay of her own so she hissed and groaned as she slid down onto him for the first time. Phil palmed her lower back as she rocked her hips against him, letting her adjust. 

“Wrap your legs around me.” He instructed, watching her raptured expression with no small amount of pleasure. When she had done so, he began a slow rolling rhythm, rocking her forward and back. It wasn't long before she was twitching, and her hips were shuddering against him, seeking a faster pace but unable to find purchase at this angle. She could only coil herself around him and wait for him to give her what she wanted.

Phil reached up and smoothed her wet hair off her forehead and then kissed her. His tongue matched the movements of his cock within her, and she moaned against him. Her body wrenched in his grip making him dig his fingers into her hips. 

“You're not going to make yourself come.” he told her firmly. “I'm going to pleasure you. You'll come when I decide to make you. Understood?”

“Y-yes, sir.” she managed, forcing herself to relax into his hands with a keening moan. 

He rocked her over him, like she was the ocean and he was the shore. She couldn't stop herself from digging her nails into his back, even as the rest of her body was pliant under his commanding touch. She suddenly understood that she would have a chance to grow into this... whatever “this” was. It wouldn't just be a chance meeting in a bar, or needing to randomly blow off steam after a mission. This would be hers for as long as they both drew breath. Her head dropped to Phil's shoulder as a soft sob overtook her unexpectedly. 

Phil recognized that sound and tipped her head up to his face, his hips never losing their rhythm. “I have you.” he said gently, his arm snugging around her waist. 

She nodded and smiled genuinely through her tears. “I'm so glad.” she whispered back.

Melinda's orgasm built slowly, each gentle rock of Phil's hips heightening the pressure that was building in her gut. When she felt like she might vibrate out of her skin, she whispered against the crook of Phil's neck, “Please...” and she felt him give a small nod. When she climaxed it wasn't sudden, but rather it was like dawn breaking. Her head swam and she felt herself calling Phil's name as he wrung the pleasure from her quaking body.

He was not far behind, even as Melinda went completely limp over his shoulder. She was content to be used like this. In a way this was more fulfilling than her own orgasm. When Phil came, he held her tightly, biting down on her shoulder and raising a handsome bruise as he spilled into her docile body.

They stayed like that for awhile after, kissing and drinking the water from each other's skin as they weathered the aftershocks together.

“Are you okay?” Phil asked after a moment, pulling back to look her in the eye.

Melinda nodded emphatically. “Yes I... I just got a little overwhelmed is all. In the good way.”

“In the good way?” Phil repeated, his tone making it clear that he wanted her to elaborate.

She thought for a long moment before she spoke. “I'm just... I'm glad this isn't a one time thing anymore.”

“It really never has been.”

“It sort of has.” she said inclining her head. “In my mind anyway. I sort of always thought of each of our previous... encounters to be just isolated incidents. I am so very glad that they aren't anymore.”

He leaned up and kissed her gently. “So am I.” he replied, smiling against her skin. “So am I. Come on. Let's give someone else in the compound some hot water.”

They stood shakily and rinsed off one last time before drying themselves and getting changed. Phil offered Melinda a set of his pajamas to sleep in. They were oversized on her in a way that made Phil's chest ache happily. Especially because the collar gaped and displayed his bite mark so well.

They crawled into bed and Melinda curled up against Phil's chest, tucking her head under his chin. They were quiet again for a long time, though both of them knew that the other hadn't fallen asleep.

Melinda was the one that finally broke the silence. 

“What do we do if the others find out about us? Should we just go ahead and tell them?”

Phil sucked on his lip thoughtfully before answering. “Lets keep it private for now, since that's what it is. Our private lives. But, this team certainly plays fast and loose with fraternization rules, so I think we're in the clear even if we do get caught.”

Melinda nodded in agreement.

“We should talk about kink negotiation.” Phil said, winding a damp rope of her hair around his finger. He felt her nod. “I mean, I feel pretty safe just organically finding our way through a lot of the D/s stuff, but if you and I want to move forward with heavier bondage or impact play, I want to have a serious talk first.”

“I agree.” Melinda responded emphatically.

“Do you want to head down that road?”

“I'd like to at least talk about it. I'm curious what the options are.”

“Do we want to shop for... gear together?”

“Mmm...” Melinda made a thoughtful sound. “Let's talk first? But I'm comfortable with you buying for me, if that's what you'd like. I think I'll be able to give you more definitive don'ts than do's.”

“That works.” Phil leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I'm glad we are doing this.” he said , his lips close to her hair. “I'm kind of a fan of the idea that we're going to build something for ourselves with all this stuff that's been unsaid for so long. No more finding awkward ways to ask for what we want from each other.” 

“Or having to wait until one of us is desperate.” She added, rubbing her face against his t-shirt.

Phil nodded in agreement, snugging his arms around Melinda's already drowsing form. This was the soft beginning of something amazing. He just knew it in his very bones.


End file.
